Mo Flanders Has Crabs
I have no idea what this headline means. Old Simpsons flashbacks may be involved.
I do know that I like Raisin Bran. I don’t just mean like. I mean like like. Like I like to snuggle up all cozy in each sugar coated raisin and search for my Rosbudian lost childhood like a whimpering man child from Alpha Centurai.
Yup. No more caffeine for me.
Vegas Paid-to-Be-Youngs Take a Dump on a Squirrel Carcass
Only taut Aryan suckle thigh Janelle offers hope of escaping this skin displaying tattoo monstrosity pileup with at least a modicum of dignity intact.
And by modicum of dignity, I mean completing enough extension classes to finally qualify as a massage therapist at a place other than “The Happy Ending Oyster and Snack Shack” off Robertson and Bundy.
The Toronto Lickjay
Why do all the HCwDB pics sent it from Canada feel like a technical college graduation mixer had sex with a J.C. Penny catalog from 1985?
Headband Harry Ignores Tasty Lacy Due to Preoccupation With his Taxes
Headband Harry just can’t figure out whether or not gel crust remover qualifies as an itemized deduction for his Limited Liability Corporation, “Fluffers Anonymous.”
Tasty Lacy causes cherubic manchild angels to prance around in states of various undress, for her taut suckle thigh has the trampolinic symbolisim of late Etruscan sculpture pooch.
In Russia, Douche Bag You!
“When Mikeal find time off from guarding gulag, wife Sonja like massively to display her huge tracks of land!” — From an early draft of Maxim Gorky’s 1896 play, “Sonja, Huge Tracks of Land: The Mistaken Proletariat”
Robobag Hates Gynochin
Robobag has had enough of this horse-chinned jowl.
He will not be buying that for a dollar.
Your move, creep.
EDIT: for balance: Robohott.
Meanwhile, Somewhere in an East Asian Woodland Dream Forest…
…Kim Shen asks the waiter for another Appletini and Kevin Wu runs up the corporate card.
Brandon Chin spikes his hair with pensive aplomb, and Old Daddy Epstein never really talks about the Jewish father he never knew. Things were crazy on air bases back in the 60s.
But don’t worry.
Midway through act two, the Peking Opera dancers show up, and then things get really wacky.
Martini Mel Deftly Spends His Unemployment Checks on Carrie
If there’s one thing Martini Mel has learned since the North Hollywood Staples laid him off in late 2011, it’s that it’s not the size of the unemployment check that counts, it’s the relocation of the party from overpriced clubs to his parents’ porch area and careful targeting of discounted product purchasing, that best makes the ladies swoon.
Good on you, Martini Mel. I’d almost give you a notta, but I’m in a bad mood these days since I don’t get remotely enough good submissions to keep this site running with the quality control of the old days.
Carrie’s back arch offers the taut skin of lickle suckle lime soda pooch.
If you had to imagine Kisseus Vomitorious and Random Hot Chick #23 At The Gym…
You’d picture it pretty much like this, am I right?
Faux workout poses for Instagram for the societal ball shave.
